may the prisoners' prayers for the prosperity and happiness of the kind giver not have been uttered in vain. Several saws having been found, no time was lost in making preparations for an escape from their irksome confinement. All the clothing that could be rendered available for the intended purpose, was cut into strips, and twisted into ropes: the bars of the windows were all but sawn through; and everything being completed, the anxious prisoners waited patiently for a dark night when they might attempt to quit their dreary imprisonment, with a fair prospect of success.

The propitious time having arrived, the bars were quietly removed, the rope lowered, and one by one did the joyous anticipators of freedom stealthily descend from their melancholy abode. All, alas! were not fated to taste the cup of prosperity; the too fragile rope giving way with the fourth or fifth man, he fell and broke his leg; the acute pain of which having caused him to utter a cry, the sentry, discovering the plot, quickly gave the alarm. Fortune, however, did not desert all the liberated party, some of whom, by concealing themselves in the woods throughout the day, and travelling cautiously during the night, after enduring many privations and hardships, had the good luck to rejoin their associates and friends.

I must not quit the record of this poor woman's benevolent act, without adding, that her motive could only have arisen from pure philanthropy; to all the prisoners she was totally unknown, and never in any manner did she again bring herself under the notice of those for whose sake she had risked much, and to whom she had so generously given health, happiness, and freedom.

In concluding my transatlantic anecdotes, I feel myself called upon to express my regret that a comrade and myself have both selected the same nom d'écriture (not nom de guerre), and being doubtful whether I might not again err were I even to designate myself Portfire primus, secundus, or tertius, I must, from the nomenclature of the Artillerist, appropriate to myself a less favourite cognomen; shall I therefore shelter myself from critical remarks, under the designation of fuse, tube, match, or any other combustible of the Service; or shall I, in grateful remembrance of many joyous hours passed in the scenes I have attempted to describe, elect my parting signature from the hospitable country itself? Feeling that I cannot do better than have recourse to the latter alternative, I shall now take my leave of my readers, with an earnest hope that they will have found nothing to condemn or disapprove in the juvenile reminiscences of

ACADIA.

A DAY IN CALABRIA: A MILITARY REMINISCENCE.

BY AN OLD SOLDIER.

Ir was in the month of July, 1806, a few days after the glorious battle of Maida, and after we had made a complete sweep of the French detachments garrisoning the different towns situated between Saint Eufemia and Scylla, that the victorious little army, under its gallant leader, the late Lieut.-General Sir John Stewart, was bivouacked on the mountain of La Meglia, overlooking the last-named town and its formidable castle, the investment of which had already been commenced by the erection of a battery at the scarp of the mountain, and at some toises less than the usual breaching distance. As it was expected that the enemy would make an obstinate resistance, our soldiers were soon occupied in erecting huts to shelter themselves from the scorching rays of the sun and the dews of the night. As a neighbouring wood offered every facility for the purpose, they were quickly completed, when their appearance was truly picturesque and beautiful; for their coverings were composed of the laurel and the myrtle, intermingled with the oleander, the geranium, and the wild rose, whose lovely flowers showed their varied hues in beauteous contrast to the no-less varied tints of the evergreens that embosomed them, while the air breathed fragrance on all around.

It was about the first hour after midnight, and the third day of our bivouac, when stretched on the green sward of my hut, and wrapt in a sound sleep, that I was awakened by an exclamation from a brotherofficer who had his hut contiguous to mine:

"Monson! Monson! are you awake?”

It would be a miracle were I not so, after such exertions from your stentorian lungs."

"And very near a miracle it was becoming, for I called you at least a dozen times before you answered."

"Well, what calls forth this mighty urgency?"

"To ask you to accompany me to our breaching battery to see its execution: at daybreak it opens."

Having growled an affirmative to the proposition, and observed that there was time enough for putting it into practice, I turned on my side, and was soon again locked in sound slumber-first wishing O'Shanlon at the very devil for having disturbed me from a repose, particularly desirable as I had been the preceding night on the advanced picquet, where sleep, the initiated reader must know, was entirely out of the question.

I will here make a digression from the regular course of my narrative, in order to give some preliminary account of my friend of the next hut.

O'Shanlon-from his name I need scarcely observe, belonged to the land of Erin, but I do think it necessary to observe that he was one of the bravest of her sons. His bravery, however, was frequently carried to extreme rashness. If ever a man loved fighting for fighting's sake, he was the man. Whenever the sound of artillery or musketry

reached his ear, O'Shanlon, if he could by any possibility manage it, was sure to be seen hastening to the scene of strife. Even if a duel happened to take place without his being able to be present at it, he would feel the bitterest disappointment; and yet, with all this belligerent mania, he was not a quarrelsome character-quite the contrary. He has told me that he possessed this feeling from his childhood, and had often, but in vain, endeavoured to resist it. I cannot here omit relating an anecdote of him, in which he was concerned as one of the principals in a duel.

During our voyage from Egypt, after the glorious termination of Abercrombie's expedition to that country, O'Shanlon had a dispute with a brother-officer, who was likewise a son of the Green Isle. This officer, in an argument they had one day together, conceiving that O'Shanlon attempted to ridicule him, retorted by some harsh expressions, which were followed up by some still harsher from O'Shanlon. On the regiment landing at Malta, a meeting was demanded from each party, and O'Shanlon called upon me as his friend to make the necessary arrangements. After vainly endeavouring to compromise matters between the two Emeralders, they met, and exchanged shots without injury.

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"Well, O'Shanlon," I exclaimed, taking the unloaded pistol from his hand, while his antagonist's second did the same with his friend, enough has now passed to satisfy the laws of honour, and O'Neil's second is of the same opinion, therefore you and O'Neil must shake hands together."

"By heavens! not before an apology is made to me," replied O'Shanlon, with a loud voice.

“That I will never do!" cried his antagonist.

Again were endeavours exerted to bring about a reconciliation, but in vain. Calling the friend of O'Neil aside, we entered into consultation, and soon formed our resolve. Advancing together towards the belligerents, and making a formal bow, I exclaimed to them

"Good morning, Gentlemen; for, as our advice seems not to be palatable to you, we must e'en leave ye to settle the affair after your own mode."

Ending these words, O'Neil's friend and I, again bowing in mock courtesy, quitted the ground, each with a brace of pistols under our arms, and returned to my quarters to breakfast; but not before we often turned round to take a view of the now unarmed combatants, who, with folded arms, and eying each other askance in silence, were with hurried steps pacing to and fro their separate ground. So ludicrous did this scene appear to us, that it became impossible to resist our laughter, and which increased each time we turned round to observe them.

We had not been seated at breakfast more than a quarter of an hour, discussing the affair of the morning, when, to our surprise and satisfaction, in marched the antagonists arm-in-arin together. Upon questioning them as to the mode they pursued in bringing about the result which we had in vain endeavoured to essay, they confessed that when they heard our reiterated laughter, their eyes became opened to their ludicrous position so that they likewise broke out in simultaneous laughter, and as simultaneously advancing to each other, they shook

hands, and left the ground together to breakfast with me, better friends than ever.

I now return to my narrative.

At an hour before midnight, I was awakened by O'Shanlon, and in a few minutes we were on our way to the battery, which stood about a mile and a half from our position. On our arrival, the working party were just withdrawing themselves, and preparations for opening its fire were in full activity. At length, the first match was applied to a fortytwo pounder, when away boomed the first shot, and again another and another in rapid succession-which, in addition to the fire of some mortars, soon enveloped us in a dense volume of smoke. At this moment, and to our surprise, a cannonading likewise against the castle, from the beach below us, reached our ears: I say surprise, for we were ignorant of a second battery having been erected. The bombardment now became very heavy on both sides, and was maintained with. unflinching perseverance. After the lapse of about an hour, I endeavoured, amid the smoke, to seek out for O'Shanlon-but in vain. Conceiving that he had returned to our bivouac, I resolved to do the same, and accordingly left a spot getting rather warm, and where I had no business nor duty to perform.

On my return to our position, I made inquiries for O'Shanlon, but no one had seen him. Feeling drowsy and rather fatigued, I entered my hut, when throwing myself on my cloak on the ground, I soon sunk into a sound sleep, from which I was started by a hearty shaking. On opening my eyes, the first thing that encountered them was the figure of the indefatigable O'Shanlon standing by my side.

"You ought to be billeted with the eternal sleepers !" he exclaimed, in his usual stentorian voice.

"And you with the eternal tormentor!" I replied, in no very good humour; "for this is the third time you have disturbed my repose within a few hours. But, tell me, where did your carcase vanish to from the battery ?"

"To the other one on the beach, to be sure, which I discovered had been raised last night by the blue-jackets of our squadron, and under the very noses of the Frenchmen. The devil a yard would I have stirred from it-so excellent was the work going on in knocking the stones about the enemy's ears-had I not been obliged to be here at this hour for the Colonel's inspection of my company. However, I shall, when it is ended, proceed to take another view of the blue-jackets from a rock that looks right into their battery, and you must accompany me there.'

"As I perceive it to be your determination to grant me no rest this day, O'Shanlon, I must needs go with you; but I trust without your again deserting me."

"No, no; this time I promise not to quit you, for there is no chance of a third battery starting up."

Saying these words, O'Shanlon, smiling, left me for the inspection. After arraying myself in decent trim-that is, by ablutions from a camp-kettle of cool water, procured from a neighbouring streamlet, and changing my shirt-luxuries not always at a soldier's command-I sat myself down on the sward to my breakfast, which consisted of bread of Indian corn, goat's cheese, and onions cut up in slices-the latter well

saturated with a mixture of oil, pepper, salt, and vinegar, and poured from a bottle that, from being jolted for some days on my baggagemule, had its ingredients better amalgamated than any dose ever issued from apothecary's pharmacy.

As I was about finishing my last draught of wine-the best part of my luxurious repast-O'Shanlon returned to me, and in a few moments we were again on the march.

On our arrival at the place indicated by him, we seated ourselves at the edge of a high and projecting rock. Our two batteries, as well as those of the enemy from the castle, were at this moment blazing forth their missiles of destruction in full activity and determination.

"How lustily Jack's new-born bantling roars!" exclaimed O'Shanlon; "while the stones and dust that are flying about the ears of Messieurs les Français tell them that its roaring is anything but "Vox et præterea nihil."

The high rock upon which we were seated commanded a view so magnificent and expansive, that an involuntary burst of admiration escaped from my lips as I turned my eyes from the warfare raging immediately below me, to the sweet contrast of the lovely scene of tranquillity beyond it, the variety of which, awakened at each succeeding moment new and delightful sensations. The beautiful Strait of Messina, with its "Fata Morgana," and far-famed Scylla and Charybdis, on which floated our proud squadron, and various transports and small craft, was calm and placid as the vault it reflected. On the right, and in the far distance, appeared the famed residence of Eolus, with its vast caverns and smoking summits; the Lipari Isles; and beyond them again, rose the rock of the forge of Vulcan, the ever-flaming Stromboli. Lowering the eye, it rested on the lofty lighthouse of the Faro, standing at the entrance of the Strait, with its village, and the contiguous one of Saint Agatha then glancing along the shore to the left, the city of Messina showed itself with its splendid country, covered with villas and villages; while in the distance, and towering above them all, the fertilizer and ravager of Sicily-the snowy-headed and gigantic mount Etna-raised its majestic pinnacle. Turning my eye from its proud eminence across the Strait, and nearly opposite to Messina, appeared the "Land of Promise," the once renowned Reggio, with its delightful valley and aromatic groves its ancient walls and city, which, stretching along the shore, reflected themselves in the placid waters. From this seductive site, continuous and lovely landscapes presented themselves along the whole line of coast, to the very rock upon which I was seated, realizing the 'beau ideal of Paradise.

My attention was suddenly diverted from the further contemplation of these lovely scenes, by my friend O'Shanlon desiring me to look at the work of destruction going on immediately below us, when an unusual quantity of stones and dust from the castle, at the moment, seemed to intercept it entirely from our view.

"Cospetto, che bel colpo !" exclaimed a strange voice.

Turning to behold the person from whom this exclamation proceeded, no one was to be seen.

"Where the devil did that voice come from?" demanded O'Shanlon, rising, and also looking around.

"From the illustrious personage you have just named, I opine, for I see nothing human near us.'